


Until Death Do Us Part

by louwie



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon, and they lived happily ever after, because sweet mother below do these boys deserve it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 12:39:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15024797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louwie/pseuds/louwie
Summary: It's strange, these new routines. There are no new mission briefings, no excursions or long hours on horseback. No one is trying to eat them, or capture them, or kill them. They're allowed to just... live.





	Until Death Do Us Part

**Author's Note:**

> This lil thingy is for the prompt "Will you marry me?" requested by the lovely [DatWriterWannabe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DatWriterWannaBe/pseuds/DatWriterWannaBe).
> 
> And a thousand thank you's and at least as many grateful keysmashes to the amazing [attraversiamo19](https://archiveofourown.org/users/attraversiamo19) for being the best beta that ever beta-ed and who is doing wonders for my confidence as a newbie writer. 
> 
> I CANNOT BELIEVE I ACTUALLY FINISHED SOMETHING!
> 
> Ahem. Anyway.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> (Feeding your fic authors is encouraged. They thrive on kudos and comments.)

The war ends, somehow.

Levi feels more lost in this new time of brittle peace than he ever did out on the battlefield. Even in the Underground, where the titans had been nothing more than a foreign concept, he'd had a purpose.

Handing in his swords and gear for the last time feels like parting with his own limbs. For so long that collection of leather and metal was what kept him alive, but there's nothing for him in the military anymore. The officer handling his discharge gives him a salute and his papers, and that's that.

Fighting is all he's ever known.

But now, he doesn’t need to anymore.

He doesn't have to fight to survive, or to feed himself, or to protect someone he loves. It should be a relief.

And yet he struggles.

Eren says he suffers from post-traumatic stress. He learned about it during his time in that Marleyan hospital. They all suffer from it, Eren says, and therefore Levi shouldn't be too hard on himself for having a hard time finding his place again.

He takes up baking because he has to pass the time somehow, and he can only read for so long before his eyes start bleeding. He plays with the idea of finding a proper job, perhaps opening a small business, but just thinking of all the planning that would require gives him a headache. Following a recipe is straightforward, and doesn't take any planning aside from making sure he has all the ingredients before he starts.

Baking serves another purpose as well. Eren is still too skinny, his thoughts still too scattered and distracting him from things such as his bodily needs, but he'll eat whatever Levi puts in front of him. Levi won't admit how happy it makes him to see Eren enjoying his food, but Eren most likely already knows.

He draws the line though, when Eren tries to dip cookies in his tea.

“But it makes it tastier!”

“Tch, and then you end up with that gross, soggy residue at the bottom and have to throw away half the tea. That shit’s expensive, you know.” He snatches the plate of cookies away when Eren reaches for another one, no doubt to dip it again right in front of him. It’s difficult to keep the smile off his face, but he somehow manages to remain stern as he levels Eren with a look. “Don’t be a child.”

Eren pouts, just to contradict him, but also because he knows it will make Levi forgive him for whatever idiocy he’s committed.

Levi kisses the pout away and later throws the soggy tea on the compost instead. His vegetables will appreciate the luxury of it, at least.

Their evenings fill with conversation.

It often leads to reminiscences of the people they’ve lost. It’s painful, but they both feel it's important to keep the memories of their fallen comrades alive. They do not dwell on _what if_ ’s or _should have_ ’s. Levi learns to let out his tears, after a lifetime of holding them back.

Eren starts an apprenticeship down at the local blacksmith's. It's hard work, but he likes the feel of it, he says - creating something with his hands instead of just destroying.

Levi starts receiving little trinkets; remodelled horseshoes shaped into bookends, uneven nails not fit for selling reshaped into hooks for their outdoor clothes. After a few months, their home is filled with little bits of Eren's work. Beautiful wrought handles appear on the cabinets in their kitchen, and Levi never has to worry about dull knives again.

He's happy Eren has found something to do with his time. For so long after they came back, Eren wouldn't go outside from fear of what people would think of him. But Eren was never good at standing still for too long, and staying at home all day wore at his mind worse than any negative reactions could.

It's strange, these new routines. There are no new mission briefings, no excursions or long hours on horseback. No one is trying to eat them, or capture them, or kill them. They're allowed to just... live.

There are good days, and bad days.

On the good ones, Eren comes home with a tired but content smile, sweat and grime covering his body, and Levi pretends to be mad about the dirt the younger man has tracked inside. Eren always nods and pretends to be remorseful, and these evenings are filled with the sort of things Levi only ever read about in fairy tales before.

Bad days start when Eren wakes up and doesn't remember where he is.

On the really bad ones, he doesn't remember _who_ he is.

He doesn't talk about it much. He's ashamed, and Levi doesn't want to push before he's ready. They spent enough years ignoring the bond between them, and Levi has learned that Eren needs to process things at his own pace before he’s ready to voice them.

In the meantime, Levi is content to wait. With time, he knows they will heal.

Even so, when Eren wakes them both up with yet another nightmare, Levi hurts more for his lover than he wants to admit. He has nightmares as well, but at least the memories are only his own.

”It's alright,” he whispers, hand hovering inches from Eren's arm. He doesn't touch just yet. ”Eren, you're all right.”

There is no moon tonight, but the stars leave him enough light to make out Eren’s features, the gleam of tears on his cheeks. He waits for Eren to find his focus. Eren’s gaze flicks around the room as if to confirm where he is, and when it lands on Levi, for a second Levi's heart clenches with fear that Eren won’t recognise him.

Then Eren exhales, scooting closer until he can bury his face in the space between Levi's chest and arm. Levi doesn't imagine his armpit smells particularly nice, but he hears no complaints. Eren, the giant oddball, once said he found Levi’s scent soothing, so Levi lets him be.

He brings up his free arm and cards his fingers through damp hair as he waits for Eren’s breathing to return to normal. After a while, Eren reemerges, lifting his head enough to peer at Levi through his long bangs.

”Sorry,” he says. Levi has long since given up trying to get him to stop apologising for his dreams. He knows Eren still feels like the responsibility of the world is on his shoulders, and it will take more than just a handful of years for that to change.

He rubs a thumb across Eren's cheekbone instead, until the tracks of salt disappear. ”At least you don't snore.”

Eren snorts and shuffles them around until he can rest his head on Levi's chest properly. Light fingers skirt over the skin on Levi's hip, drawing patterns that leave goosebumps in their wake. ”You'd have kicked me out by now if I did.”

Levi scratches at Eren's scalp. ”I already let you get away with enough.” He feels Eren's smile against his skin.

“Because you love me.”

Levi grunts, neither an affirmation nor a denial, and it earns him a sharp prod to his ribs. He catches the offending limb in his hand and presses a soft kiss against Eren's pulse point, where the skin is warm and soft.

With a sigh, Eren raises himself up on his elbows to stare down at Levi with a slight furrow between his brows, his eyes searching.

He’s still hurting from his dreams, Levi can tell. Not for the first time, he wishes he wasn’t so fucked up, that he could find the right words to say to make Eren feel better again. Instead, he leans up and catches Eren’s lips with his, trying to pour everything he feels into it - his concern, his worry. His love.

Eren responds, something between a sob and a whine escaping through his chest as he pushes Levi down by the shoulders and straddles his hips. “Please,” he whispers, hands urgent, breath too fast yet again.

Levi has never been good at giving people what they want. Usually, because he doesn’t want to. He has come to learn what Eren needs though, especially during times like these, and he is more than happy to provide it. It’s a relief, knowing what to do. And it’s always been easier to speak through his actions than through words.

Because it’s still so hard to utter those three little words out loud. They could never encompass the extent of what he feels for Eren in any case. Their meaning is always there in his head, in his chest –swirling around with others, too intense, too much– but when he tries to speak them, they get stuck on his tongue until he chokes. He hopes Eren knows anyway.

That he knows how Levi had given up hope of something like a home a long time ago. That he’d never thought he would have this, a place of his own in the world. And that despite everything –the horror, the grief, the betrayals– his place is right here with Eren, so close he doesn’t know where one ends and the other begins, close enough to breathe each other’s air, to taste each other’s breaths, every gasp and groan of pleasure.

Afterwards, they lay curled up on their sides, hands still wandering, but now with a content ease, fingertips gentle and undemanding. Sweat coats Eren's skin again, but now it lacks the tang of anxiety.

”I love you,” Levi whispers. It’s easier like this; with his eyes closed, face hidden beneath Eren’s chin. Eren cranes his neck enough to press a kiss to the top of Levi’s head, hugs him a little closer.

“I know.”

Levi thinks he could fall asleep again like this, but there’s a slight tension building in Eren that means he is thinking too much. Levi dozes, content to wait until Eren is ready to share whatever is on his mind.

”There's something –”

With a huff of air, Eren disentangles himself from their embrace and slides off the bed. Levi props himself up on an elbow as Eren grabs for his pants discarded on the floor and starts rummaging around in their pockets. He returns after a few moments, but instead of climbing back in, he sinks to one knee right there on the floor, a small leather pouch held out in his hand like an offering. Levi's heart stutters in his chest.

”What are you –” He drags himself into a sitting position, surprised he can still control his limbs, despite the tingling spreading through them.

”Marry me.”

The rosy tint to Eren's cheeks cannot be solely blamed on the light from the rising sun trickling in through the window, and Levi knows it matches the colour of his own. Even so, the determination is clear on Eren's face as he shakes out the bag, and two pieces of metal fall out into his palm with a soft clink.

”I wanted to do this all proper, with a nice dinner and candles and all that, but I could never work up the courage.” He pauses to clear his throat, and when he raises his head to meet Levi's eyes, there's something so fragile about him that Levi barely stops himself from reaching out. ”But you know, who knows how this year will end, so perhaps it's better to – catch the day, and all that.”

”It's 'seize the day', idiot.” His voice sounds strangled even to his own ears, and the epithet is reflex more than anything.

He knows why Eren is asking this now.

This is the year they'll know. If they won the war for real, if the cure works. They'll know if Eren survives, or if he –

They don't have a set date as reference. Eren doesn't remember exactly when his father injected him with the serum, and the lifespan might not be as accurate as 13 years to the day. But they know that if he makes it through winter, they will have made it for real.

It doesn’t matter that Eren can’t shift anymore or that his skin now holds scars. It’s not enough to reassure them. Levi still fears waking up one morning to find Eren has left him, gone in his sleep, just like that. He wonders if that fear will remain even after this year.

”Well, nevertheless. Will you –” Eren stops to take a deep breath, curls his fingers over the rings before opening them again. ”Will you marry me?” He holds one of the rings up, the smaller one, its polished steel reflecting the hope in Eren's eyes.

It’s Levi’s turn to clear his throat, trying to reel in the emotions building inside his chest. ”Do you really have to ask?” The words still come out as barely more than a whisper.

Eren huffs, lips twitching into a brittle smile. ”It's tradition, isn't it?”

Levi exhales and then inhales again slowly, staring at the offered ring as if it were a venomous snake. ”We're hardly a traditional couple.”

Some of the hesitance melts from Eren's features, and he gives a proper smile, wide and bright like it always is when Levi admits out loud that they’re together.

”That's true, but I’m scared that if we break even more traditions, people will start sharpening their pitchforks.”

Levi rolls his eyes. ”You're the one who sharpens most of them. Besides, everyone loves you.”

Eren chuckles with a shake of his head. ”I don't care about them,” he murmurs, scooting closer to the bed. His hair is a tangled mess, and Levi already misses the feeling of running his fingers through it.

He wonders if Eren knows what it does to him, seeing his lover like this. Kneeling on the floor as naked as the day he was born, heart on his sleeve and Levi's seed still drying between his legs, something desperate in those brilliant eyes of his.

Levi averts his gaze, his heart too large for his chest, the pulse of it beating painful in the most wonderful way. ”You don't want to get stuck with me for the rest of your life.”

Eren hums, resting his chin on the bed. Looking up through his lashes, his right hand –with the ring pinched between the fingers– creeps a little closer to Levi's knee. ”I've gathered from reliable resources that I am, and I quote, 'an annoying little shit'. So if anything, we'd be stuck with each other.”

It had always been hard to stay away from Eren's pull, and this time is no different. Levi grabs Eren's wrist and Eren follows obediently as Levi drags him up onto the bed. Eren settles in Levi's lap, too big with his long legs and long arms and big eyes that shine with such intensity Levi fears he will be burned.

And yet he belongs. Their fingers interlace with an ease that still takes Levi with surprise, how easy they fit, despite their differences. Despite everything they've gone through together.

Or perhaps that's why they do fit so well together.

”Hm. Is that so?” He lets his free hand wander up to cup Eren's jaw. The skin under Levi’s fingertips is rough with stubble, Eren's lips red and inviting. Levi watches as those lips quirks into a smile.

”Yeah. So what do you say? Wanna grow old together?” A considering pause. ”Well, even older, in your case.” Eren grins even though Levi pinches his bottom lip.

”Shithead,” Levi says, but it’s much too fond. He tries not to think about the implications of Eren’s proposal. He doesn’t want to think about growing old, not when Eren might not be there–

He lets the hand drop from Eren’s face and holds it out, as if in defeat, even though they both know it's not. Eren grins again, and the ring slides into place with ease.

”Give me the other one,” Levi orders. Eren obeys, and it's strangely satisfying, holding Eren's hand in his as Levi slips the metal onto his ring finger. It's a ritual as old as their society, yet he never imagined he one day would be part of it. ”I'm getting you another one, just so you know. You can't give yourself a ring.” He rubs his thumb over the polished surface, a small smirk finding its way onto his lips. “It’s not _traditional_.”

He has his suspicions of where these rings come from, because the necklace Eren has worn for as long as Levi has known him has been missing for weeks. He's not going to ask, though. Eren will tell him when he's ready.

Eren smiles, nuzzling against Levi’s temple. ”I don't want to waste any more time.” The words are so quiet Levi might have missed them had he not been so close. ”And it doesn't sound too bad, this whole marrying thing, does it? ‘Til –” He exhales, draws a deep breath. “‘Til death do us part, right?”

Levi closes his eyes, his throat suddenly too tight for him to even consider finding the right words. He nods instead, arms clutching around Eren a little tighter and wishing with everything he is that they could have this forever, even though he knows it’s impossible. Life doesn’t work that way.

He interlaces their hands again, brings them up so he can watch the rings glint in the early morning light.

They’ll have each other, and that’s more than enough.

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me on [tumblr](https://louwie-luna.tumblr.com).


End file.
